


cracks between the concrete

by interropunct



Series: we all fill up with time [2]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Bonus Scenes, M/M, alternate POV, see other story for warnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 04:58:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9107593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/interropunct/pseuds/interropunct
Summary: Bonus scenes and alternate POV scenes from 'we all fill up with time'. Enjoy!





	1. chapter 1 bonus scene

“Take off your shirt.”

Adam didn’t really go for the ‘barking orders and expecting to be obeyed’ approach to domming. He just spoke and if his sub didn’t do what he was asking them to do, it was because they didn’t want to in which case there might be something wrong with what he was asking.

Ronan only hesitated a moment before complying, sweeping his shirt off over his head and dropping it on top of his jacket. Adam took in the tattoo, only the top of which he’d seen peeking out from beneath Ronan’s collar before, and he thought that asking him to take off his shirt had been a good choice because he would be happy to admire that tattoo all night.

But right now they had other things on the agenda.

“Kneel over here behind the couch.” There was a space between the living room and the dining room where Ronan’s larger frame could fit without looking crowded in by furniture, so that was where Adam put him.

Then he realized his mistake. He should have grabbed his blindfold when he’d gone back to get the NDA. Now he would have to make two trips: one to get the blindfold, and another to get the other things he needed without Ronan seeing.

Adam had been planning out the scene since he’d said yes to Ronan in the club. He was still winging it more than he’d like, but he at least had some ideas. There were a couple things he’d wanted to try out but never got the chance to. If he’d had his way he would have double checked that his ideas worked with Ronan but Adam thought he understood now: the surprise was part of what did it for Ronan. He could work with that.

A solution occurred to him and before he could second guess himself he crossed back to the closet and pulled out a soft acrylic scarf he’d bought for himself last Christmas. It wasn’t perfect, but it was dark red and thick and it would work.

Adam came back and folded it in half before blindfolding Ronan with it. Ronan snorted softly which was an odd reaction but Adam couldn’t worry about it right now. He had too many other things on his mind.

“Can you hold your hands behind your back for me?”

Instantly Ronan clasped his hands at the small of his back. And that wasn’t what Adam would have expected back in the club. He had pegged Ronan for a stubborn, willful kind of sub who didn’t take orders easily.

“Let me guess. Now you’re gonna go for the fuzzy pink handcuffs.” Ronan said, derisive. And _oh, okay._ So he was mouthy. Adam could definitely work with that.

“Close. I do need to go get some things. Stay where you are. Oh, and one other thing.”

When Ronan had kneeled he’d done what most people do, he’d sat up on his heels and put his weight on his toes and the balls of his feet. That wasn’t going to work for this.

Adam walked over and put one hand on Ronan’s shoulder to steady him. Ronan immediately tensed at the contact but didn’t otherwise move. Then, with his foot Adam moved Ronan’s toes out from under him, while pushing down slightly on his shoulder. The result was that Ronan was forced to sit down fully, putting all his weight on his ankles and feet underneath him. Ronan made a little surprised noise, but again he didn’t move.

“Oh, so you’re gonna micromanage too. That’s just great.”

Adam briefly thought about telling Ronan to be quiet but he didn’t because he thought Ronan might obey and Adam didn’t want to close that line of communication.

Instead he just said, “Stay,” before walking back to his bedroom.

This was what he’d thought about on the cab ride over. He was going to have to be somewhat creative with this. So he grabbed his laptop and his fancy noise cancelling headphones. Next he picked up one of the shorter segments of pre-cut rope from his play bin, along with one of the fancy rose shaped candles Blue had given him off the window sill.

With all that in hand, plus a lighter slipped into his pocket, Adam detoured to the kitchen to pick up the last thing he needed.

Shit. He looked at the time. He hadn’t checked when he’d left Ronan, but it might have taken two minutes to gather his stuff. That left him about eleven minutes until Ronan’s feet were well and truly asleep.

Well, thirteen minutes was his best guess. He’d tried it himself before, sitting on his heels until his feet went numb, spurred on by the idea of perfecting a method for making a sub feel that pleasant pain of blood returning to a deadened limb. For Adam it had taken fifteen minutes before the burning of pressure on his feet had changed into numbness. But Ronan had a larger frame than Adam and so there was more weight resting on his heels. He guessed thirteen minutes, but he’d have to play it by ear.

Coming back into the living room, Adam was pleased to find Ronan exactly where he left him. His back was still straight as well, which either meant his feet weren’t hurting too badly yet, or his pain tolerance was very high. Adam knew when he’d tried it he’d started unconsciously rocking forward after only a minute or two, trying to get relief.

But Ronan was still. And had a snotty “Took you long enough,” for Adam when he came back into the room.

Adam knelt behind Ronan and used the rope to do a quick wrap and cinch tie on his wrists. It was an easy knot but didn’t take too long to put on or take off which was why Adam liked it.

“What’s the problem, don’t trust me?” Ronan mocked, but the tension had ratcheted up and the muscles in his back were taut with it. Adam didn’t respond just to see what he would do with no feedback. Ronan snorted. “That’s what I thought.”

After Ronan’s hands were secured Adam carefully twined his fingers with Ronan’s for a moment, purposely gentle. Ronan shivered and then scoffed as if that would make up for his own reaction. But he didn’t say anything so Adam got up and moved around to Ronan’s front.

He sat cross legged on the hardwood floor in front of Ronan and opened up his laptop. It wasn’t hard to find what he was looking for, just a quick google search. Then he plugged in the headphones and started the audio on the laptop before placing it on the back of the couch and slipping the bulky headphones over Ronan’s ears.

“ _Wow_ ,” Ronan said, voice dripping with sarcasm, “white noise. Exciting.”

Adam checked his watch. Coming up on ten minutes now and Ronan was rocking backwards and forwards ever so slightly, which was a good sign. Adam had turned up the white noise loud enough that Ronan wouldn’t be able to hear anything so he stilled him with a hand on either bicep.

“My feet are falling asleep, asshole.”

Adam rolled his eyes, wanting to say ‘yeah that’s kind of the point, dumbass’. But Ronan continued.

“I get it. You’re trying to bore me into subspace. That’s great, working real well. Glad we had boring paperwork as boredom foreplay.”

This time Adam laughed. When he’d first started doing this a few months after he and Blue split, having a sub like Ronan probably would have got to him, because he had been self-conscious and anxious, and angry at himself for being anxious and Ronan would have exacerbated that. But now, three years later, it didn’t matter; Adam had a plan and he was going to stick to it. And maybe Ronan would still be loudly making fun of him by the end, in which case the least Adam could do was laugh at himself.

Adam had three to five minutes to burn so he started tracing Ronan’s shoulders and down his chest. He had a few scars, white lines crisscrossing his ribs and some more along his pecs. Adam barely brushed one right below Ronan’s left nipple and he curved his shoulders in, pulling at his bonds, trying to get away or to hide.

“Sorry, sorry.” Adam said, even though Ronan couldn’t hear him. But he stood up and trailed his hands over Ronan’s shoulders so he would know that Adam was behind him now. He relaxed, sitting back fully on his heels even though they had to be burning by now.

Adam traced the lines of the tattoo. It was all black but somehow the phrase “riot of color” came to mind. Perhaps it was a riot of darkness.

“Look, just do something already.” Ronan said, after a few minutes of gentle touches. And he sounded… off. Adam didn’t know him well enough to say what he sounded like when he was ‘on’ but he could still tell that this was ‘off’. No tremor in his voice but a strain like he wanted to scream.

Without really thinking about it, just wanting to make Ronan not sound like that anymore, Adam dug his nails into the skin right above Ronan’s shoulder blades and _raked_ them down his back. Ronan let out a choked cry. Before Adam could worry, he was talking.

“Yes god, that’s what I’m talking about, that’s what I want.”

And yeah, okay that made sense. With the sensory deprivation and the gentle touches he’d been trying to get Ronan to relax, to let go. But instead it had just ratcheted him up higher. Now this, pain, that wasn’t a punishment for Ronan, it was a reward.

Adam was still trying to process that, trying to process the way Ronan was shivering slightly when he realized his thirteen minutes were up.

He went around to Ronan’s front again, careful not to touch any of his scars, Adam tucked his hands under Ronan’s armpits and guided him up onto his knees and then onto his feet.

“Ow, shit!” Ronan said, vehement and a little out of breath. He swayed on his numb feet but Adam steadied him. If Ronan’s body was anything like Adam’s everything would be cramping from calves to toes. The more Ronan moved his feet right now the better but he couldn't hear Adam instructing him. Damn it, he hadn't thought this through. But instinctively Ronan started picking up his feet, walking in place to get the blood flowing again.

Then he paused, seemingly unsure if he was doing the right thing. Adam moved one hand to the back of Ronan's neck and dug his fingernails in just enough to be felt in what he hoped would be understood as a ‘don't stop’ gesture. Apparently it worked because Ronan shuddered and started moving again. Adam guided his head down to rest on Adam’s shoulder as he continued to hiss and grit his teeth at the pain.

If Adam had done his job right it wouldn't be intense pain. But it would be different, unexpected in this context where pain was usually direct and instantaneous. Instead it was just tricking your body into betraying you. That was the idea anyway. Adam couldn't be sure if it had worked but as Ronan's movements slowed then stopped he sagged forward, putting more of his weight on Adam. That was probably a good sign.

“I've never liked pins and needles before.” Ronan said, voice muffled by Adam's shirt and perhaps hazy with the beginnings of subspace as well. Adam felt a surge of triumph and in that moment he wanted to press a kiss to the side of Ronan's head in praise. But remembering how Ronan had reacted to gentleness earlier Adam restrained himself.

They weren't done yet, there was still a ways to go, but he was glad that his first gamble seemed to have paid off. Well, partially successful anyway, because glancing down between them he noted that Ronan didn’t appear to be hard. That was okay, they were just getting started.

With hands back on Ronan's biceps he settled Ronan on the floor and then lowered him onto his front. Halfway through this maneuver, with Ronan kneeling forward and resting most of his weight on Adam, Adam realized that he needed a cushion or a blanket. But there weren’t any in the living room because it didn’t fit the carefully crafted aesthetic Adam was going for in the public parts of his apartment. Not sure what else to do, Adam snagged Ronan’s leather jacket off the back of the couch. In some tiny bit of luck it was soft and well-worn with a silk inner lining, so Adam balled it up so the soft interior was facing up and used it as padding for Ronan’s head.

It seemed like the improvisation had been a good idea because, now lying on his front, head pillowed on the jacket, Ronan breathed deeply and Adam could see him relax at the familiar smell.

“What now?” Ronan asked, even though he had to know he wouldn’t get an answer. He didn’t seem to mind the silence anymore because he just hummed a little to himself as Adam picked up his next item.

It was a pale pink, almost white candle that Blue had made during her ‘I’m going to support myself entirely by making things on etsy’ phase, which was debatably ongoing.

Mostly she focused on clothes, occasionally consulted with her family to create items to help with the occult, but this particular piece was from an experiment in candle making. It was shaped like an open rose, but the odd thing about it was that there was no single wick in the center, instead it had many tiny wicks in each petal. The idea was that you would light the inner wick and it would slowly ignite the other petals until the entire candle was turned into a little burning rose. Symbolically it was interesting but right now Adam was more interested in the logistics.

Adam took the candle and placed it as close to the center of Ronan’s tattoo as he could, hoping this would work the way he imagined it. Taking the lighter out of his pocket he carefully lit a few of the outermost petals. This particular rose was a bit of a mistake because it was open and extended enough that if you were careful you could light just a few petals without the others catching. The opposite of what Blue had in mind, but perfect for Adam’s purposes.

It didn’t take long for the wax to drip down the outside of the rose and hit Ronan’s skin. Ronan’s breaths sped up but otherwise he didn’t react as the burning wax turned the skin around it a dark, angry red. Adam lit a few more wicks until the entire outer ring was burning and the wax was melting quickly, layers dripping down on top of each other and slowly oozing over until they hit new skin.

Adam worried that it wasn’t enough, as that first rush of wax turned into a slower slide outwards. Ronan had joked about getting bored before but now there was a very real chance of it happening and that was the last thing Adam wanted. As the outmost wicks burnt themselves out, Adam began to pick the cooling wax off Ronan’s skin. It was actually easiest to do this when the wax was still slightly warm, when it could be peeled off like a second skin. When he had the area clear he set the candle down on Ronan’s left shoulder blade and lit the second set of wicks. He then repeated the whole process on both shoulder blades.

By the time he had pulled off the last piece of barely-warm wax most of Ronan’s back was shiny and red between the black lines of the tattoo. And more importantly, Ronan’s breaths had slowed down. Way down.

“Phew. That’s all you’ve got?” Ronan said, but he didn’t lift his head from the fabric of his jacket so the words came out slurred and gentle.

Adam thought for a second then. He could end it there. Ronan was more puddle than person at the moment. Adam could leave his last item and start aftercare now. But just out of curiosity, Adam dipped his fingers into the melting bowl of crushed ice and pulled out a few small pieces. He let them fall onto the overheated skin at the center of Ronan’s back.

The effect was instantaneous.

Ronan arched, hard. Head and shoulders lifting off the floor, back bowing and more than that _moaning_. It was a loud, strained noise followed by panting but it was pretty much exactly what Adam was looking for. Going back to the bowl he scooped out a small handful of crushed ice and gently spread it out along Ronan's spine, letting the melting water pool in the small of his back before sliding off to meet his bound arms.

Adam traced the water droplets with a chilled finger and Ronan whimpered. Adam went back for more ice, made little mounds over the tight skin of Ronan's shoulder blades. Adam's floor was going to be a mess after this, with dried wax pieces and puddles of water but Adam honestly didn't give a shit when every breath out of Ronan's mouth sounded like a sigh and every breath in was ragged.

Ronan's hips were making little pulsing movements against the floor and Adam wanted to reach around and touch his dick, see if he was hard, see how much pressure it would take to get him off with the ice turning his back to burning numbness. But he didn't. He wasn't sure if over the pants touching would violate the spirit of the “keep pants on” request, so he kept his hands to himself. And he was so focused on Ronan, on making sure this went right, that his own hard cock was more or less meaningless.

It didn't take long for the rest of the ice to turn to water on Ronan's back, and by the time Adam scooped up the last of the ice chips out of the bowl Ronan was shivering.

Carefully he pulled the headphones off Ronan's ears.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, keeping his voice light and conversational as he undid the makeshift blindfold.

He wasn't sure what kind of response he'd get, sometimes subs had difficulty coming up out of subspace enough to talk right after. But Ronan had just been one surprise after another because he hummed thoughtfully and then said, “I've been worse,” in such a lazy tone that Adam wasn't sure if he was being mocked. “And yourself?” Ronan asked, rolling his now unencumbered head to one side so he could look at Adam crouched beside him.

His pupils were blown wide and his eyes were glassy, taking just a second too long to focus on Adam's face. And yeah, he didn't think he was being mocked. Or if he was he could be okay with it.

“I'm doing pretty good.” Adam said, holding Ronan's gaze for a long moment before moving around so he could start untying the rope around Ronan's wrists.

He hadn't tied it tight enough to cut off circulation but he still checked the tips of Ronan's fingers when the ropes fell away. They were rosy and warm but not hot to the touch, and Ronan obligingly wiggled them to show everything was in working order.

Adam wasn't sure what to do next. He had to go get supplies for aftercare but he didn't know if he should maneuver Ronan onto the sofa first. Ronan decided for him by pulling his arms around and tucking them under this jacket so his head was pillowed on them and then settling in comfortably as if he was ready to go to sleep.

Adam smiled, warmed and satisfied.

“I'm going to go grab some things. I'll only be a sec.” Adam said, standing up.

“Hurry back,” Ronan drawled sarcastically and Adam snorted.

He grabbed a towel out of the clean laundry basket and, after a second’s hesitation, dug around in the bottom of his closet for the first sweater Blue had ever knit for him, a dark green labor of love that was at least two sizes too big but which he nonetheless wore around the house on the coldest days of the year.

Then he went into the kitchen to get a glass of water and something to eat. He had granola bars but they were old and kind of stale (he knew it was stupid to buy in bulk for one person, he just couldn't resist the prices) so he grabbed his guilty pleasure treats instead: some fig bars.

When he got back to the living room he honestly wasn't sure if Ronan had fallen asleep. His eyes stayed closed as Adam stepped closer and he didn't say anything. If he was asleep Adam would let him rest for a little while, not long enough for the floor to start hurting his already hurt body, but long enough to ride out the adrenaline and endorphin high a bit.

Still, he couldn't leave Ronan with cold water covering his back so he gently patted at the worst spots with the towel. Ronan shifted and perhaps he had been awake the whole time or he'd just woken up but either way he spoke with a rasp.

“Damn, getting the five star treatment here.”

Adam thought that was a bit of an exaggeration, this was the least he could do, but didn't say anything.

When Ronan was dry Adam draped the towel over his shoulders, glad that he'd mostly stopped shivering.

“Can you stand?” he asked.

“You sure think a lot of yourself, champ.” Ronan said, levering himself up, but for all his big talk he swayed a little once he was on his feet, and had to grab for the back of the couch.

Ronan continued to hold onto the couch as he walked around it back to his shirt, where he sat and pulled the white muscle tee over his head. Then he seemed to realize that he'd left his jacket on the floor and turned as if to get up.

“I'll get it.” Adam said, “Drink this,” and handed him the glass of water. Ronan drank deeply and Adam felt again that swell of pride, of having done something well, that feeling that beat winning a case at work any day.

He grabbed the leather jacket, careful not the trail it in the puddles on the floor, and came around to the other side of the couch. At the last minute, Adam sat on the other couch, with the coffee table between them. Ronan struck him as the type who wouldn't want to be crowded after a scene.

He held out the jacket and Ronan put the empty water glass down to grab it. But before he could swing it on, Adam stopped him with a word.

“Wait. Could you- it's cold out and I'm sure normally you care more about your aesthetic than actually being warm, but just humor me and- put this on?”

He held out the sweater and Ronan gave him an odd, calculating look. But after a second he took the lumpy sweater and put it on.

“Any last requests?” he asked, eyebrow raised challengingly, and Adam's first instinct was to say ‘what, no, you can't go yet, I've got to make sure you're okay’. But it was pretty clear that Ronan had already shook off most of the lingering traces of subspace.

“Want a Fig Newton?” Adam said instead, offering it like an olive branch between them.

Ronan smirked.

“Sure, I'll take a couple for the road.” As soon as Adam handed over a stack Ronan began nibbling on one as he stood to leave.

“Let me give you my email, just in case you want to do this again.”

Ronan shrugged like, ‘yeah sure, if you insist’, but he settled back down on the couch as Adam wrote his email and phone number on the corner of his NDA still sitting on the table. He tore off the strip of paper and handed it over.

“I get it,” he said, as Ronan took the contact info, “you don't want to talk now. You probably just want to be alone, but if you decide you want to try this again we should meet to debrief beforehand.”

Ronan just gave him a cold look, not even dignifying that with a response. He went over to the door and pulled on his boots while Adam scrambled to get his own shoes out of the closet.

“What are you doing?” Ronan asked, pausing at the door.

“Just making sure you get in a cab safe.” Adam said, feeling silly under Ronan's sharp gaze.

“I got it.” he said, and slipped out the door leaving Adam alone in his deafeningly empty living room. Adam didn't let himself feel the sting.


	2. chapter 4 bonus scene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's pretty short but a new one will be going up tomorrow so I just thought I'd post this now. I love me some Adam & Blue interaction <3

“So what seems to be the issue?” he asked, once they were seated in the restaurant, meeting Ronan’s intense gaze that seemed to almost look through him.

“Well I have a fairly strong online presence. I’ve never published a longer piece before but my short stories have somewhat of a cult following on certain areas of the internet.”

“Is this – I’m assuming it’s a novel – based on one of those previously published stories? Because depending on where they were published–”

“No, this story is new. And yeah, it’s a novel. But the thing is, I have a back and forth with a lot of people who follow my blog. We have conversations about past work and things I’m doing now, although nothing to spoil my current project.”

“Okay, so far I’m not seeing a problem.” Adam said, jotting down on his pad: ‘ronan lynch blog?’

“Yeah, well my editor suggested starting to promote my book. So I posted a blurb just so the title and premise could start circulating.” Adam nodded. “And almost immediately I got a few people cropping up saying I’d stolen the idea from them.”

“Ah.” Adam said, trying to decide how to word this. Ronan beat him to it.

“I didn’t. Steal the idea? I know that’s what you’re thinking. But I didn’t.”

“Okay.” Adam wasn’t a trusting person by nature. And Ronan had given him no explicit reason to trust him. And yet, Adam did. Completely. So his tone was deliberately conversational when he continued. “The burden of proof rests with them, they would have to show in court that your idea came from them. But if you had any counter-evidence…”

“I keep all my correspondence if that’s what you mean.” And there, that was a reason. Adam had represented plenty of rich, guilty assholes. It was a hazard of working at a large, prestigious firm. But people who had something to hide were usually very good about destroying the evidence. Unless they were very stupid which Ronan was decidedly not. If Adam was looking for a reason to trust Ronan, he wouldn’t get a much better one than that.

“Perfect, have you looked at the conversations with the fans in question?”

“Yeah, I have them on my phone.”

Ronan passed his phone over, email threads pulled up already. Adam started reading but quickly realized there was a problem.

“I don’t know how similar any of these ideas are to your novel, because I don’t know what your novel is about.”

“Oh.” Ronan looked caught off guard for a split second. “I guess you do need to know that, huh?”

Adam shrugged his agreement.

And then Ronan dived in. It wasn’t a blurb, or even a synopsis, although Ronan surely had to have practice with his elevator pitch by now. It was a detailed, one-sided discussion on the plot points and character arcs, the themes and the allusions. And suddenly, he reminded Adam so strongly of Gansey, of that fire, that all-consuming passion that had drawn Adam into Gansey’s orbit and kept him there. Except on Gansey it had the effect of highlighting, like flickering flames illuminating high cheekbones, a regal nose and a carefully cultivated mind. On Ronan it was softening, it took his deadly eyes and slash of a mouth and his aura of fierceness, and turned off the fluorescents that made it almost ugly in its harshness. Instead, it showed that all that skin and ferocity was stretched tight over a tender ego nestled in brittle bones.

It caught Adam completely off guard, like a punch he had long ago stopped anticipating. He was left breathless and unsteady, trying to pay attention to Ronan’s words and take notes with the exquisite distraction of his softly blazing eyes. But, even after all this time, Adam still knew how to recover from a punch. So he caught himself, focused and found himself just as strangely enchanted with the words as with the speaker.

Adam asked a few questions but mostly listened. And when Ronan finally fell silent, Adam turned to the emails with renewed interest. This Ronan, at least, was familiar: all lowercase, terse and eloquent by turns.

By the time he got to the end their food had long since arrived and Ronan had nearly completely devoured his.

“I don’t see anything but a passing similarities between their ideas and yours. It’s true, there are some unfortunate coincidences between later plot points and ideas these readers brought up, but I don’t think there’s enough here to build a case.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought too. But Gansey said I might need to change some details in order to clear up the ‘coincidences’.”

“I don’t see why. Most of these types of cases are ended with a small settlement, if lawyers are involved at all, and at worse it could damage your credibility among hardcore-fan types, but with the commercial success I think you’ll have, that won’t matter much.”

“What makes you think I’ll have commercial success?” Ronan asked, and there was still that signature smugness but it was accompanied with a self-conscious drink of his water.

“I have ears?” Adam said, tone joking but words serious. “Even if you can’t write for shit, which I doubt, you’ve got an imagination that can create whole worlds out of nothing but air. That counts for a lot.”

Ronan didn’t meet his eyes.

“Anyway, there was one other comment I didn’t pull emails for,” Ronan said.

“Oh?”

“It was anonymous, so I couldn’t see if I’d spoken to them before. But… it had pretty accurate details about a character that doesn’t show up until ¾ of the way through the book, so I didn’t want to dismiss it entirely.”

“Well, they can’t sue you anonymously, and the ideas are original so there’s no way it can be anything but a good guess. Still, keep an eye out for more messages from that person.”

“Yeah, okay.”

They were both done with their food by now and the waiter brought the check just as the conversation trickled to an end. Ronan reached for the bill.

“Don’t.” Adam said, stopping him, “I can expense it.”

“Right, of course.”

Adam paid and they made their way onto the curb. It was dark, because of course it was, and the clouds was clearly thinking hard about snowing.

There was a long awkward moment where Adam suddenly remembered how they’d left things on Saturday. And he knew he should keep it separate, draw a distinct line between their professional relationship and their distinctly non-professional arrangement. But the more he thought about it the more he worried that Ronan would interpret it wrong, would think that Adam was ashamed of what they did. Which wasn’t the case at all. While Adam didn’t want his private life publicized or displayed in anyway, he had fought long and hard not to harbor guilt over the things he enjoyed with other consenting people. He had seen too many repressed doms and sadists who took their issues out on those people they were meant to be engaging with honestly. Adam didn’t want to give Ronan the impression that he was one of those types.

“I’m sorry about how I reacted earlier. You caught me off guard,” he started. Ronan shrugged while looking over Adam’s shoulder, past him. “I don’t lead a double life or anything. I’m just a private person.”

“Kind of have to be in a place like that.” Ronan said and Adam couldn’t decide if it was meant to be an insult either to him or his firm.

“Yeah,” he said, because, well, it was true. “But I still want to talk about what happened on Saturday. Maybe set up another scene.”

“Yeah, okay. Text me.”

“What? You don’t want to talk now? We can go to a café or my place or whatever you want.”

“No, no, I’m better over text.” And suddenly something clicked.

“I should have guessed you’re a writer.” Adam said, because who else but a writer admitted to communicating best over text messages.

Ronan’s mouth quirked into a smirk.

“Yeah.”

“Want to split a taxi?” Adam asked, not wanting to let go of this fragile accord.

Ronan shook his head.

“Nah, I’m- I’m gonna walk for a bit.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” and there was a new, or rather an old, sharpness there. “I’m good. I’ll talk to you later.” And then he was off down the street, not even in the direction of the nearest subway station. Adam wondered what he’d said wrong as he got into a cab.

He decided, whatever it was, he should give Ronan time to get over it. So he didn’t text until Tuesday night. Blue, after hearing the whole story, magnanimously allowed texting over dinner as long as she was allowed to read all messages. Adam said she could hear his, but not Ronan’s. She said that was a stupid rule but gave in quickly because something was better than nothing.

 

From Adam:

            Do you want to talk about our last scene?

 

“Boring. And you love your kinky lingo don’t you.”

“I’m trying to be non-committal. And I could do without comments from the peanut gallery.”

She stuck out her tongue.

 

From Ronan:

            not really but i will.

            i may have overreacted

From Adam:

            Okay. Can you explain why you reacted that way?

From Ronan:

            basically I don’t deal well with the “care” part of aftercare. mollycoddling gives me hives.

From Adam:

            So caring is the same thing as mollycoddling now?

From Ronan:

            you sound like my therapist.

 

Adam wondered if this was another test, like coming out as trans, checking to see Adam wasn’t a completely shit human being. Well if Ronan thought this would trip him up he had another thing coming.

 

From Adam:

            That’s probably because my mothers are therapists.

 

Blue didn’t say anything but she beamed quietly.

 

From Ronan:

            yeah well, to answer your question, I don’t know. I just have a hard time taking that ‘caring’ stuff at face value

            with

 

And then there was a long pause, then a lot of typing, then a very short message.

 

From Ronan:

            with my ex it always came with strings attached

From Adam:

            Okay.

 

He wasn’t sure what else to say to that. He suspected Ronan would take very poorly to prying, or possibly even to an ‘I’m sorry’. He decided a change of subject was in order.

Blue was pouting.

“Okay could be said in response to _literally anything_ , Adam, you’re not giving me much to go on.”

“Sorry,” he said as insincerely as possible.

 

From Adam:

            Otherwise was the scene okay?

From Ronan:

            yeah

            i liked the marks the next day.

            and i’m gonna have trouble next time i go to church so thanks for that

            (but. it was good.)

From Adam:

            Awesome, good to hear. You were great. I was a little worried about the (what was the term you objected to?) themed dirty talk

 

“Themed dirty talk, what is this an R-rated Ren faire?”

“That’s it. You’re in timeout, you don’t get to hear any more texts for ten minutes.”

“That wasn’t the deal!”

“I think the deal did not include color commentary either and yet here we are. Timeout.”

“Fuck, fine, you suck. I’m going to go check on Henry, he crashed here after work and I want to make sure we haven’t woken him up.”

 

From Ronan:

            that’s still a fucking awful term, I’m not backing down on that one. but you pulled it off pretty well. why hail holy queen by the way?

From Adam:

            It seemed like the… nicest? I don’t know, it didn’t talk about sin or Jesus dying on the cross so I liked it. And the website I looked up said it was common so I was pretty sure you’d know it.

From Ronan:

            wow you did research

From Adam:

            Yeah, of course.

From Ronan:

            i can’t tell if you’re joking or not

From Adam:

            Not joking.

From Ronan:

            …okay

 

Adam didn’t like the way Ronan was always surprised by Adam’s investment in their arrangement. Proper play should come with a commitment. But something was beginning to give Adam the idea that Ronan didn’t know very much about proper play.

 

From Adam:

            Do you think you’ll have similar reactions in the future?

            To the aftercare, I mean.

From Ronan:

            why?

From Adam:

            Well, aftercare is a pretty big thing for me. If it’s totally off the table I think we may have a            problem going forward.

From Ronan:

            jesus christ, you've got to be kidding me

From Adam:

            Look, just give it a shot. That’s all I’m asking for.

            Let’s set up another scene and afterwards you stick around and let me take care of you at least a little

From Ronan:

            i could walk away right now, there are a lot of other doms out there

From Adam:

            Of course. And if you want to do that, that’s completely your prerogative. Everyone’s got things they’re not willing to do, and if this is one of those things for you, then we probably wouldn’t be able to keep this up for very long anyway.

            But I’ve enjoyed our scenes together up to this point, and if you have too, I think it might be worth trying it out.

            If it helps, I’ll try to be hands-off and not, like, smother you.

 

There was a long silence, during which time Blue came back into the room.

“Well, am I out of timeout?”

“I wasn’t paying attention to the time, but yeah, sure. How’s Henry?”

“Sleeping the sleep of the adorable.”

“As y’ do.”

Then another text came in and Adam checked it immediately.

 

From Ronan:

            one condition: surprise me. for real this time.

From Adam:

            That can be arranged. Thanks for giving me a shot with this.

From Ronan:

            yeah whatever, impress me

From Adam:

            Saturday? Same time?

From Ronan:

            let's make it earlier, say 6?

From Adam:

            Great :)

 

“So you set up another scene while I was in timeout. Cool.”

“Cool?”

“Yeah, you know I’m always deeply invested in your extra special kinky interests.”

Adam couldn’t help but laugh.

“Fair enough,” Adam said, in a tone that meant ‘and we both know how weird that is’, “but you don’t even like this guy?”

“Well sure he seemed like a typical rich asshole when I first met him, but I hated Henry at first too,” she pointed out sensibly.

Adam raised an eyebrow.

“Are you actually saying that every rich asshole you have to deal with on a daily basis deserves a second chance?”

“No!” But she was blushing slightly and _that_ was interesting.

“Blue Sargent, are you keeping secrets?”

“Every lady has her secrets; didn’t you _mothers_ ever teach you that?” Blue said, smiling sweetly.

“Oh god, you know if you tell Calla she’s never going to let me forget that.”

“Only because she’ll be secretly pleased. Plus, Mama-Lily Johnson has a ring to it.”

“You’re cruel and I will never admit to be practically related to you ever again.”

But they were both smiling and Blue ruffled his hair before pulling him off the couch to come help her wash dishes.

Adam appreciated for a minute how lucky he was to have her.


	3. chapter 5 bonus scene

“Fine,” Ronan said, as he came into the room. The word was clipped and contentious. Adam thought about asking him how far along in the publishing process he was, but he suspected that would be awkward on multiple levels.

Adam suddenly felt quite certain that Ronan was shit at small talk. So he got straight to the point.

“You can still back out,” he reminded Ronan. “You can back out at any time.”

“Yeah,” Ronan said, sounding wary or defensive or some mixture of the two.

“Okay…” Adam said, before shoving away the off-kilter feeling. “What’s your safeword?”

“Glendower,” Ronan said immediately.

Adam closed his eyes, took a deep breath to prepare himself, and caught a barely there whiff of an unfamiliar manly scent that must be Ronan. And that was that.

“Close the door,” he ordered, although it tilted up at the end like a question.

Ronan obeyed.

“Strip to your boxers.”

Adam half expected some disagreement on this point, like their last scene, some posturing. But Ronan just gave him a narrow-eyed look before stripping off everything but his boxers. That was good. Adam had given a lot of thought to this scene. Not having any input from Ronan meant that he wasn’t willing to push limits or do anything particularly surprising. Ronan had agreed to do something because Adam asked him to, the least Adam could do in return is make sure he enjoyed himself during the scene.

“Now…” Adam adjusted his spot on the bed, moving so he was sitting in the middle with his back nearly to the headboard. “I want you lying down, ass up, over my lap.”

“Look,” Ronan said, as he crossed the room, “not to burst your bubble or anything but if you’re planning on doing that soft, bare-handed bullshit your hand is gonna start smarting long before my ass really starts to hurt.”

Adam smiled crookedly. “Thanks for the concern.”

He didn’t say anything else as Ronan was levering himself onto the bed, just surreptitiously checked the supplies where he’d placed them under the pillow beside him.

When Ronan stopped moving, his head was resting on his crossed arms, his legs were spread slightly and his ass and the backs of his legs were across Adam’s lap. It wasn’t the perfect position. For one thing, it meant Adam’s blows would be coming from his left hand, but that was a small price to pay for having Ronan talking (and hopefully moaning) into his fully functioning ear. For another, the bed wasn’t quite wide enough for Ronan to actually lie down completely. Instead he was keeping himself up slightly, supporting himself on his elbows and knees. Not the most comfortable but Adam felt sure Ronan could handle it.

Adam slid the paddle out from under the pillow with his left hand, put his right hand at the small of Ronan’s back to steady him, and started off with a gentle blow.

“Well that’s slightly better than your hand,” Ronan commented and Adam smiled as he brought the paddle down in another firm smack.

He kept it fairly light and very predictable at first, just warming Ronan up. It was a shame he couldn’t see what shade of red Ronan’s ass was turning, as Adam had learned to gauge his hits based on cues like that. To make up for it he peppered hits along that back of Ronan’s thighs as well, where he could see the progressive reddening occur.

After a while, Ronan went from silent to soft grunts when Adam hit slightly harder, and that was exactly what he was looking for. After a few more minutes of slightly harder hits, Ronan was panting and pushing up to meet each smack.

Then, he put the paddle down.

“What the fuck,” Ronan said, “that better fucking not be it.”

“Do you want me to tell you what’s next?” Adam asked, because honestly he would have been happy to tell Ronan exactly what the plan was but, “I got the impression you wanted to be surprised.”

Ronan laughed, a pleased and slightly giddy sound. “Fine, hotshot, surprise me.”

So Adam searched around under the pillow until he found what he was looking for.

It was a tiny little, lurid purple thing that Adam had originally got for external prostate stimulation. But it would work even better for this. Adam slipped the vibrator over his finger, flicked it on and slid his hand between Ronan’s thighs. Ronan spread his legs obligingly as Adam first skated the toy over Ronan’s entrance before gently massaging at his outer lips through his boxers.

With his free hand Adam dug his fingernails into the hot cloth-covered skin of Ronan’s ass, just as he pressed the vibrator to Ronan’s clit. Ronan groaned, a deep rumbling sound.

From there Adam made little circles around Ronan’s clit with the finger vibe while alternating between pinching and scratching at Ronan’s back, ass, and upper thigh. It didn’t take long for Ronan to come in slow shivery waves, groaning “fuck, fuck, _fuck_ ” from between clenched teeth.

Before Ronan had even caught his breath Adam had turned off and removed the vibrator and picked the paddle back up.

“That all y-” was as far as Ronan got before Adam was coming down with a hard smack.”Fuck!” Ronan gasped, before letting out a breathless laugh. “You motherfucker.”

“I’ll take that,” Adam said, “as the compliment,” punctuated by hits, “I’m fairly certain,” the paddle loud against Ronan’s skin, “it’s intended to be.”

By now Adam’s arm was beginning to hurt. So he scooted back slightly to get a different angle, which resulted in his erection rubbing teasingly against Ronan’s front.

“Mmm, good to know everyone’s paying attention.” Ronan said, undulating his hips to give Adam’s cock more stimulation.

It was wonderfully, deliriously distracting but Adam managed to keep the paddle coming down, hard and at uneven intervals even as he rocked up to meet Ronan’s downward thrusts.

In the end it was the pained, pleased sounds that pushed Adam over the edge, hits slowing and stopping for a minute as he came in long pulses.

“Fuck,” he said, as the aftershocks shivered through him, “you’re amazing.”

“Thanks for noticing,” Ronan said breathlessly, but he sounded a little self-conscious. And, _that_ was interesting.

“I’m going to try to get you off again, think you can handle that?” Adam asked, skating a gentle hand over Ronan’s tense shoulder blades.

“Fuckin’ try me.”

He got the vibe back out and turned on. It took longer to get Ronan off this time, since he wasn’t wound quite so tight, but when he finally did come it was with a hoarse cry.

“Fuck, Ronan you’re doing so good. You’re being perfect for me. I’m going to try something now okay? And if it’s too much you can always safeword.”

“Stop talking about doing it and fucking do it then.” But the words were slow and sloppy on their way out of Ronan’s mouth. He was pretty clearly well into subspace by now. So hopefully this would work well.

Adam got out the last thing he’d set aside. A short, thick, rattan cane.

Adam took a deep breath and Ronan, whether consciously or not, mimicked him. Adam smiled and brought the cane down in a solid strike, enough to hurt but not enough leave a mark. Not yet.

Ronan just moaned.

“One,” Adam said. “Can you keep count for me, Ronan?”

“One,” Ronan repeated obligingly.

“Good boy, you’re being so good.”

And then he brought the cane down twice in quick succession, only slightly stronger than the first hit.

“Two, three,” Ronan breathed.

“So good.”

Another hit.

“Four.”

Another, the hardest yet.

“Five,” Ronan said, but he wobbled slightly where he was holding himself up.

“You’re so fucking perfect, you can do this. I believe in you.” Adam said, sliding his right hand up Ronan’s back which wasn’t as relaxed as he would like.

So he waited. But Ronan didn’t relax.

“Ronan?”

“Yeah?” It was said in between quick breaths and was almost wobbly, not the blissed-out sound Adam was looking for.

“Can you take another?” Adam asked, before realizing that was a stupid question.

“Of course,” Ronan said, although Adam was fairly sure Ronan’s pride would mean he’d say that no matter what.

“Do you want to stop?” Adam asked, voice gentle.

There was a long silence. Then, finally, Ronan said, “Yes.” And then braced as if for an impact.

Adam immediately dropped the cane beside him on the bed.

“Okay,” he said, one hand reaching to help Ronan up, the other keeping his hip steady as he turned over. “We’re done.”

“What?” Ronan sounded confused and a little angry, but also there was a shaky, vulnerable sound in his voice that Adam didn’t like _at all_.

But Ronan let himself get levered over until he was lying on his side, diagonally across the bed.

“Where are you going?” Ronan asked as Adam stood up.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he reassured, “I’m just grabbing a blanket.”

Adam grabbed a thick, soft blanket out of the trunk at the head of his bed and by the time he had brought it over Ronan had adjusted his position so his head was on the pillow. Adam carefully covered him, then put the toys away before lying down facing Ronan but not touching him.

Ronan’s eyes were closed, face carefully blank.

“So, what did I do wrong?” he asked, clearly trying for flippant but missing by several miles.

“Nothing, you were great.”

Ronan opened his eyes and leveled an unimpressed look at him. “Yeah. Right. That’s why we stopped.”

“We stopped because you wanted to stop. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Since when is ‘yes I want to stop’ my safeword?” Ronan said, belligerent.

Technically he wasn’t wrong. If he wanted to get mad about this Adam wouldn’t blame him, but…

“We’ve never discussed consent play; I didn’t want to take that risk. You said you wanted to stop, I stopped.”

“I could have taken more,” Ronan challenged.

Adam was silent for a minute, just looking at Ronan. He didn’t look truly angry, but more defensive.

“It’s not about what you _can_ do; it’s about what you _want_ to do. About what we both want to do. And I don’t want to hurt you when you’re not into it anymore.”

Ronan looked past him, and his voice was far away, “But I was doing so well.”

“You _did_ do well,” Adam insisted, “you were amazing, I couldn’t have asked for anything else.”

Ronan met his eyes.

“You were perfect, for all of it,” Adam said.

And then Ronan’s face crumpled, just as he brought his hands up to cover the expression.

“Ronan,” Adam breathed.

“Shut the hell up.” And it wasn’t joking, it was raggedy and too-honest.

“Can I touch you?”

“Sure, this can’t get any more embarrassing,” Ronan said into his hands.

So Adam moved forward, put one arm around Ronan’s shoulders and slid the other under his head.

Ronan peeked out from between his fingers and his eyes were red.

“This is stupid.”

“It’s not.”

“Yeah,” Ronan said, insistent, “it fucking is. It was a good scene, I got off _twice_. Whatever, it ended badly there’s no reason to fucking cry about it.”

“You’ve never gotten subdrop before?”

Ronan gave him a narrow-eyed, calculating look.

“You think that’s what this is?”

“It’s very possible. Or hell, maybe you just had a crappy week, or you didn’t get enough sleep last night, there are a million things it could be and there’s nothing wrong with any of them.”

Ronan rolled his eyes theatrically.

“Why do you do that?” Ronan asked.

“Do what?”

“Pretend to care.”

Adam felt like he’d been slapped.

“What? Ronan, I do care. Of course I care.”

“Why? It’s not like we’re dating.”

“Do you want to be?”


	4. chapter 6 alternate POVs

When Adam got out of the subway station, Ronan was standing across the street looking viciously handsome. But as Adam got closer he glimpsed familiar forest green peeking out from beneath the bottom of Ronan’s leather jacket.

Adam walked up and stepped into Ronan’s orbit, letting his hands rest on the zipper of the half open jacket.

“Undressing me already, Parrish?”

“What is it with you prep school kids and calling people by their last names?” and then, tugging slightly on the zipper, “may I?”

“It gets us hot, what can I say.” Ronan said with a smirk before glancing quickly down at Adam’s hands. “Sure.”

Adam pulled the zipper down and parted the jacket and yeah, that was definitely his sweater.

“I notice you never made any effort to give this back to me,” Adam said, trying to suppress a smile.

“I forgot.”

“Are you sure you’re not holding it hostage?”

Something in Ronan’s eyes shuttered. He tangled his fingers with Adam’s and slowly pulled them away from his jacket before zipping it up.

“Nah, just forgot.”

“Well. It looks good on you.” Adam said, tone stilted. Ronan raised an eyebrow teasingly as if that was a substitute for his otherwise blank face. He turned and started walking, pace deliberately slow so that Adam could easily fall into step.

There was silence for a long moment.

“What did I say wrong just now?” Adam asked finally.

Ronan looked at him out of the corner of his eye, before shrugging.

“It’s not important.”

“My guess is that it is.”

“Fine, but I don’t want to talk about it now.”

“Okay.”

“It’s not exactly first date conversation.”

“Okay. That’s fine.”

They lapsed into silence. Adam became aware of the neighborhood around them, the picture perfect townhouses and the people out walking their dogs who smiled at them as they passed.

As Ronan led him up to the three-story brownstone Adam couldn't help but be awed by it. It wasn't the same looming, glass and steel behemoth that his own apartment building was. But it was quietly and intimately itself, fitting in perfectly to its surroundings and yet successfully unique, from the worn steps to the forest green door to the plant box outside one of the windows.

"You own this place?" Adam asked as they went up the steps, because Adam couldn't imagine anyone so much as touching this home without wanting to have it entirely as their own.

"Yeah, my dad bought it. Technically my brother lives here too but he's away at college so I basically live alone."

* * *

"This… is The Brownstone.” It was a welcome and a warning; ‘this is important’ it said, ‘pay attention.’

Ronan led the way in and Adam followed. As Ronan turned back to close the door before Chainsaw could get out, Adam peered deeper into the house. Then the tell-tale skittering sounds and Chainsaw was there to greet them.

“You-” Adam looked surprised, crouched down to get a better look, “this is a chicken.” Confused, but he touched Chainsaw gently as she clucked happily. Something inside Ronan unclenched; Chainsaw had good taste.

“Yup. Her name’s Chainsaw.”

“You have a chicken named Chainsaw.” It wasn’t overtly judgmental but Ronan still bristled.

“Jesus, it’s not that weird.”

“It’s pretty fucking weird, Lynch.” Adam said, but he was still petting Chainsaw and he had this little smile on his face as though he wasn’t aware he was wearing it. That combined with the easy way he used Ronan’s last name made it sound like an old friend teasing him, not a new boyfriend judging him.

So Ronan smiled as Adam looked up at him. Then he took off his jacket and boots and pushed the arms of the sweater up away from his hands.

What he wanted to do was hover in the doorway and watch Adam’s face as he took in Ronan’s home, trying to catch every thought as it came. But he forced himself to walk towards the kitchen.

Chainsaw, knowing him too well, followed.

“I’m not feeding you anymore, you bloody bastard.” Ronan said, but he got one of the meals he’d prepared out of the fridge anyway, because he was weak to Chainsaw’s plaintive clucks.

But before he could give it to her, his curiosity got the better of him and he quietly walked back through the dining room.

Adam’s gaze was drinking everything in, and there was something awed and hungry in his eyes. But it was the hunger of someone offered more food than they could possibly eat, and yet still wary to dig in, not wanting to take too much. It was desperate but not covetous.

And Ronan watched him and felt a delicate relief, one that made him feel vulnerable in its newly blooming happiness. Adam looked up, as though sensing him, and their eyes met for a second. Adam cocked his head and Ronan didn’t want to think about what was showing on his face just then, so he turned and walked back into the kitchen.

He fed Chainsaw her dinner, although he’d probably be giving her more leftovers from what they ate later in the night. He heard Adam follow him into the room but he didn’t look up from Chainsaw until Adam spoke.

“Hey, is there somewhere I can change?” he asked, holding up the briefcase Ronan only now realized he was still holding.

“Oh.” It popped out without Ronan thinking about it.

“What did you think I was going to stay in my suit all evening?”

“I wouldn’t complain.” Ronan said, half flirtatious, half honest, thinking again that Adam’s mere presence made his kitchen look like a movie set.

Adam just raised an eyebrow.

“Noted, but I’m still going to vote for something more comfortable,” Adam said, which was perfectly reasonable.

“There’s a bathroom up the stairs on the right, second door.”

“Thanks,” Adam said, before leaving to change.

Ronan allowed his body to slump from a careful crouch into a lazy sprawl across the floor. Chainsaw paused in eating long enough to watch him, made an approving noise, then went back to eating. Ronan laughed. She loved it when he was close to her, but somehow he felt Adam should not come back into the kitchen to find Ronan sitting on the floor thinking about how well that went. It seemed rather too on-the-nose.

So he stood up and went to put some music on, something interesting and unique and effortlessly engaging while remaining easy background music. Sure that should be easy to find.

Of course, now he was aware that his ipod was completely and totally full of crap. He didn’t think Adam would appreciate the 20 song playlist entirely made up of remixes of the Murder Squash song that Noah had given him. Eventually he settled on an electro-swing playlist that he enjoyed but rarely listened to.

As he washed his hands he suddenly wondered if he should have gotten non-alcoholic wine or something else appropriately romantic. Fuck, he hoped not because non-alcoholic wine tasted like shit. Besides, it was too late now.

“What’s this?” Adam asked from the dining room.

“Electro-swing,” Ronan answered.

“Wow, that’s completely not what I would have expected.”

Ronan wanted to ask what he’d expected, but he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to hear. Maybe it would be too close for comfort. Maybe it would be way off. Either option seemed unfortunate.

“Well, shit if you want I can break out the shitty EDM of my youth, but Gansey and my friend Noah have dragged me kicking and screaming into some more adventurous musical tastes.” Ronan said, not looking at Adam as he leaned against the counter next to Ronan.

“No, no. I like it. It fits the place.” Ronan didn’t want to say that the reason why he liked the songs in the first place is because they reminded him of the songs his mother used to play while they were cooking. He didn’t want to say that, but he was thinking of saying it anyway, some intentional vulnerability in this afternoon full of it.

But he turned to look at Adam, trying to decide how to word it, and did a double take. Ronan looked his – he could say it goddamnit – his boyfriend up and down and Adam looked completely relaxed and slightly rumpled and attainable in a way he never had before, not a work of art but a person albeit a very attractive one.

“Nevermind,” Ronan said, “I like this better.”

A tiny smile wavered on Adam’s face for a moment before he looked away, focusing on the foodstuffs arrayed on the counter.

“What are we making?” he asked. “Is that an obscene amount of spinach you have there?” He gestured at the basil-filled sinks.

“Please,” Ronan said, insulted on behalf of the basil, “use your nose.”

The whole house had had the perfect homey, crisp smell all morning. But all Adam could come up with was a rather hesitant, “Not spinach?”

“Basil,” Ronan corrected, trying not to take it personally, this was after all his _signature dish_. “We’re making pesto.”

“Oh. Great,” Adam said, smiling so that little crow’s feet appeared beside his eyes and Ronan had to swallow against how much Adam seemed to fit so perfectly here.

“It’s the only thing,” Ronan found himself admitting, “I could be sure I wouldn’t mess up, no matter how… distracting… you were.”

Adam smiled wider and stepped close enough to brush against Ronan but not close enough to crowd him. Ronan turned so his back was to the counter and he and Adam were sharing air.

“Would you like me to distract you?” Adam asked, brushing his lips against Ronan’s.

“I didn’t say that,” Ronan pointed out archly.

“Oh, well in that case,” Adam said, stepping back, saying without words that even a joking ‘no thanks’ was still a ‘no’ in his book.

“You dick,” Ronan said, even though he had never appreciated anything more. But then he pulled Adam back in by the hips and that was the end of the discussion.

* * *

It felt completely natural, as if they’d done this a million times before, lips warm and movements soft. It almost shocked Adam to remember that this was their first kiss. They’d been so intimate in other ways, but never quite like this. Ronan wasn’t aggressive in this, as Adam might have thought based on his first impression. But neither was he submissive. He kissed Adam in the same way they spoke, two people meeting as equals. It lit something hot and shimmering inside Adam’s chest.

Adam ran his hands lightly over Ronan’s buzzed head, feeling the barely-there prickle of soft hairs against his palms. Then he slid his arms around Ronan’s shoulders, pulling them closer. Ronan murmured something vaguely affirmative into his mouth and let his hands drift from Adam’s hips down to his ass.

They stood there kissing like that for a stupidly long time. Adam was vaguely aware of the songs changing but he was more aware of his thigh pressed between Ronan’s and the way Ronan was rocking forward to get friction against it.

“O-okay,” Adam said, out of breath. “Pause. Pause for a sec.”

Ronan pulled back just enough that they could look at each other without going cross eyed, but kept his hands where they were on Adam’s ass.

“Dinner.” Adam said, trying to sound stern. “I’m guessing the basil won’t keep.”

Ronan was smiling smugly.

“I can buy more,” he said. But he didn’t dive back into the kiss, instead he held eye contact and allowed Adam the moment to think. Adam really did hate wasting food.

“Nah,” Adam said, sliding his hands down Ronan’s biceps as he stepped back. “We’ve done the sex thing already. Our first date should have some actual first date appropriate activities.”

“’Kay.” Ronan said, shoving his hands in his pockets and adjusting his jeans slightly. He didn’t seem too put out, because he immediately turned back to the counter. “I’ve done the boring prep stuff already.”

“I could have helped.”

“It really is boring as shit, no reason to have us both do it.”

“Well, what’s next?”

“The loud part.” Ronan looked far too excited about that.

Ronan left Adam in charge of the pasta and setting the table as he steadily blended and seasoned his way through the entire sink-full of basil leaves. Adam tried not to notice how much olive oil went into the mixture along with everything else, because it was truly an astounding amount. But the result was several tupperware full of dark green _delicious_ sauce so Adam wasn’t going to complain.

“So, I’m assuming you are planning to spring a dinner party for twelve on me any minute.” Adam said, eyeing the truly astounding amount of pesto that had been made.

“You mean you don’t want to eat this shit with a spoon until we’re both sick?”

“I’m not completely ruling out the idea, I just think this date thing might go better if it didn’t end in luridly green vomit on all sides.”

Ronan gave a little sideways smirk.

“It’s called a freezer. Most of these containers will live there for a while.”

Adam liked the economy of that.

* * *

After dinner and dessert they made their way to the couch, and Ronan could have put in a movie or one of the dozen boxsets he had cultivated but that reminded Ronan too starkly of months where all he’d done was watch old TV shows and written his book and drunk his way through withdrawals.

So he let Adam control the remote and focused on draping himself over Adam’s back and playing with his hands.

They were good hands, long-fingered and deceptively delicate. When Ronan looked closer he saw old scars and could feel skin that was smooth now but was thickened with what must once have been impressive calluses.

They were hands that had touched Ronan, had hurt and helped and smoothed their way down the knobs of Ronan’s spine. But now Ronan was in control, was the one touching and he reveled in the way Adam’s fingers curved and his hands moved, cleaving effortlessly to Ronan’s will, no posturing or defensiveness because Adam didn’t see touching and being touched as an eternal war between lovers turned enemies. It just _was_. And the thought overwhelmed Ronan more than a little.

Eventually he forced his mind onto other topics, particularly the tantalizing expanse of freckled skin leading from the stretched-out neck of Adam’s sweatshirt up to the close cropped hair at the base of his skull.

Ronan traced tendons with a gentle touch before following the path with his mouth. Adam’s breath went ragged almost immediately and Ronan worried a bit of Adam’s skin between his teeth to stop himself smiling. It didn’t take long for Adam to twist around in his seat, presenting more of his neck for Ronan’s pleased exploration.

“Shit, Ronan,” Adam said, breathless and soft. “You said you lived alone, right? No chance your brother’s suddenly gonna walk in?”

“Uh-uh,” Ronan replied easily, sucking gently on a spot of skin that hummed with Adam’s pulse. Ronan wanted more, wanted Adam’s cock on his tongue or inside him, wanted Adam to press absentminded bruises into his hips and his wrists.

“And not to be a stereotypical prick, but you’re sure you want to do this on our first date?” Adam said, almost sheepish. It should have been funny: Adam worried about the outward appearance of normality in a relationship that had already defied every standard of normal. But instead the question ‘you’re sure?’ rebounded in Ronan’s head and sparked a flame.

“Look, I know you’re trying to be nice, asking me if I’m sure.” Ronan’s voice was too sharp. He didn’t care. “But _don’t_. If I’m doing something, I’m sure, don’t second guess me.”

Internally he prepared for a fight, for Adam to say that wasn’t what he _meant_ , or he was _just trying to be nice why did Ronan have to be such a bitch?_ instead, as easy as breathing, Adam said, “Oh, okay. Sorry.”

And the kicker was: it was completely sincere. Ronan felt the flame go out under a flood of affection.

“’S fine,” Ronan said before going back to kissing Adam’s neck, overwhelmed with how much he liked this man.

“Well, in that case.”

* * *

Adam slid off the couch and turned so he was kneeling in front of Ronan. He paused with his hands on Ronan’s knees to give him time to catch up before tugging him forward so he was perched on the edge of the couch, leaning back with just his head resting on the sofa back.

With one hand Adam pushed the sweater and undershirt up Ronan’s stomach, baring well-defined abs that Adam quickly set to work on. As he laved at Ronan’s lower stomach and the trail of dark hair there, he brought his free hand up to the artful tears in Ronan’s no doubt expensive jeans. He had noticed the holes earlier but not fully appreciated them until now, as they gave his fingers access to trace patterns on Ronan's muscular thigh.

Adam bit and sucked his way up Ronan's belly to his chest and it didn't take long until Ronan's breaths were coming in uneven gasps and his body was shaking slightly under Adam’s fingers and lips.

“Can you fu-fucking get on with it?” Ronan gritted out, sounding desperate, _looking_ desperate from the whites of his eyes to the curl of his toes against the floorboards.

“Yeah,” Adam said, as both hands worked on the button of Ronan's jeans. Once they were unfastened Ronan arched his back, lifting his ass off the couch so Adam could pull his jeans down. Adam had to move back slightly, shuffling awkwardly on his knees to pull Ronan's pants and socks all the way off. As he discarded the items of clothing on the floor, Ronan surged forward, bending almost in half to meet Adam's mouth with his own.

The kiss was rough, teeth and tongues, but slow as though they had all the time in the world and Ronan was willing to spend every last second doing nothing but this.

But Adam had other plans, so after a few long moments he pulled away reluctantly and tugged at Ronan's sweater until he got the hint and pulled it, and his shirt, up and off.

Now there was just Ronan, slouched regally on the sofa with nothing but his boxer briefs on, looking down at Adam through half lidded eyes.

Adam nipped his way from Ronan's knee up to the edge of his boxers and Ronan's breath caught satisfyingly.

“May I?” Adam asked, nosing at the meeting of Ronan's thighs.

“Yeah,” breathlessly, “go for it.”

Adam licked over the fabric covering Ronan's cunt. The material was thin with wear and Adam could feel Ronan’s heat against his tongue. Ronan dug one hand into Adam’s hair and used his other to grip the cushion behind him as he pumped his hips up to meet Adam’s mouth. Between Ronan’s eagerness and Adam’s ministrations it didn’t take long for Ronan’s boxers to get thoroughly wet.

“You should fuck me,” Ronan said, voice gruff.

* * *

Adam paused but didn’t pull back.

“Here?” he asked, glancing up.

Ronan shook his head.

“My room’s warmer, and my bed’s comfier than the couch,” he explained.

Adam pressed in a split second, pressure exactly where Ronan wanted it, and then stood up.

“Lead the way,” he said, offering Ronan a hand up. Normally Ronan wouldn’t have taken it, on principle, but if he was being honest his knees were feeling a little rubbery.

“Fine,” he said, standing and arching an eyebrow, “but by the time we get to my room you better be naked.”

“Sir, yes sir,” Adam said with a laugh that bubbled and spilled over onto their still-joined hands. Then he took off his sweatshirt and dropped it with Ronan’s clothes.

Ronan led the way up to his room, trusting that Adam would follow. He only looked back once, when Adam slipped a condom into the space between skin and the waistband of Ronan’s boxers, and then only to give Adam a pleased smirk.

When they got to his bedroom there were a few long moments where Adam seemed to get caught up taking in the room. Ronan took the chance to take off his boxers and get under the covers without drawing attention to himself, keeping the condom in hand.

“Cold?” Adam asked when he noticed Ronan’s move.

“Something like that,” Ronan said, because he didn’t want to lie. He wondered what Adam saw in his face just then because he came over and got into bed.

“You’re gorgeous,” he said, so earnest it warmed Ronan like a fire had set up shop in his chest. It was a strange yet undeniably pleasant feeling.

He blinked and cocked his head and said, indolent, “Tell me something I don’t know.”

Adam looked like he wanted to laugh but just kissed Ronan briefly instead as Ronan passed him the condom.

“Lube’s in the bedside drawer,” Ronan said, because after that foreplay it wasn’t like they _needed it_ but he liked to give Adam his options.

He seemed to take it as a request because after he rolled the condom on he grabbed the bottle out of the bedside table and slicked himself. Ronan didn’t mind the extra lubrication and it was nice to finally have Adam inside him, even if it was just two fingers scissoring him open.

He tugged Adam forward by his hair until he nestled his face into the space between Ronan’s shoulder and his neck, exactly where Ronan wanted him. God, Ronan wanted him. It had been so long since he’d felt like this, aroused but completely cognizant, no high, no subspace, just the need pumping through him. He loved it.

“How are you doing?” Adam asked.

“Good. I’m-” Ronan gasped, loud and it was stupid but it just felt so good, “I’m good.” And then, to keep up the pretense of calm, he asked, “You?”

“I’m excellent,” he said, biting at Ronan’s collarbones in a most appealing way.

When Adam finally pulled his fingers away Ronan opened his eyes (when had he closed them?) and saw plain as day what Adam was about to ask. The ‘are you ready? Are you sure?’ was written across his face.

But at the very last second he seemed to catch himself and his mouth shut without saying anything.

Ronan felt incandescent. He nodded and tugged on Adam’s hair.

“Good boy,” he said.

This time Adam did laugh.

“I’m not going to call you daddy,” he said.

Ronan couldn’t hold all his feelings inside himself. He was sure they had spread themselves across his face most indecorously.

“You say that now,” Ronan teased.

“Oh shut up,” Adam said, before finally thrusting into Ronan.

Ronan groaned, loud and pleased as Adam crowded in close, so close, but Ronan only wanted him closer.

“If you want me to shut up,” Ronan said, warm and gravelly, “you’re gonna have to try harder than that.”

“I’m just getting started,” Adam said and Ronan couldn’t help but laugh even into the kiss Adam initiated.

It was some kind of magic, Ronan thought, getting to feel this way.

But Adam was true to his word and thrust again, an unforgiving roll of his hips that turned Ronan’s laugh into a muttered, “Fuck.”

“That’s the idea,” Adam said, smugly.

“God you’ve got one ins-insu-” Adam sucked one nipple into his mouth and then bit at it gently, and Ronan couldn’t speak for a moment. “Jesus, keep doing that,” he said, before getting back to the point, “one insufferably smart mouth.”

Adam didn’t seem perturbed by this in the slightest. He kept fucking Ronan as he bit harder and harder until tears were springing at the corners of Ronan’s eyes because it was _so good_ , and he was _so fucking happy_ it made him feel like he was going to explode.

The little bit of pain wasn’t enough to send him into subspace, but it was enough to make him feel alive like he was driving over one hundred miles an hour down a dark freeway. He tried to say something, anything, tried to bluff his way out of the expanding feeling in his chest, or perhaps say something completely sincere like ‘Thank you.’ But the words just got stuck in his throat and turned into a deep-seated whine.

But the next moment Adam pulled away and Ronan found some words after all.

“No, no, don’t stop, that was good,” he said, with only a note of appreciative desperation.

Adam repeated the move on his other nipple and Ronan was sweating now, rocking his hips up to meet Adam’s thrusts and scratching at Adam’s back trying to get him to thrust harder or faster or both.

“C’mon,” Ronan heard himself say, when Adam finally released his nipple and pulled back to get a better angle, “c’mon, faster. I can take it.”

“I’m sure you can take it just fine,” Adam panted, “I’m worried about myself.”

Ronan couldn’t get enough breath to laugh but he snorted and then moaned at the next thrust.

“Well, Parrish,” Ronan huffed, grinning and glowing and smug, “if you can’t handle this much man, just say so.”

“Oh fuck the hell off,” Adam said, tone bright, “if you want to run this show just say the word.”

“You know, that’s an excellent idea,” Ronan said, before flipping them over. It was easy. As Ronan has suspected Adam’s lean muscle was nothing against Ronan’s controlled power.

“F-fuck,” Adam stuttered, eyes wide and pupils blown.

“You like that?” Ronan asked, pleased and surprised but trying not to show it.

“Maybe,” Adam allowed, and then, “I might be better persuaded by repeat performances.”

“For god’s sake, finish one fuck before you start setting up the next one, Parrish,” Ronan said, although really he liked the promise that they’d do this again.

“What can I say, I’m a planner,” Adam said which made Ronan laugh, because as far as he could tell that was very, very true.

Adam brought a hand up to start touching Ronan’s clit. He had a delightfully light touch, just enough stimulation to push Ronan closer and closer to the edge without pushing it into overstimulation territory.

Ronan moaned his appreciation and just sped up the pace of his thrusts.

It was easy to get lost in the feeling, the floating, freeing feeling that slipped under his skin and curled up there, making itself at home. His breaths were quick and sweat slid down his chest and he was so close he wanted to scream.

When he did come, not long after, it was quiet, jaw and every other muscle in his body locked up as the pleasure rushed over him in wave after wave. Finally he was spent and he pushed Adam’s hand away.

He slowed his pace, taking the time to catch his breath and open his mouth to check in with Adam.

Then he felt it.

A firm press against his scar combined with Adam’s voice.

“What’s this?”

Ronan froze, mind and body, locked up, caught utterly unprepared even though he had _known_ this was going to happen. Then he scrambled backwards, wanting to get away from that touch, from that question, from what was going to happen next.

He pulled his knees up to his chest and crossed his hands in front of them, and when he brought himself to make eye contact he hated the way Adam was looking at him: warily.

Ronan tried not to feel defensive, tried to say that it didn’t matter but the words stuck in his throat and the feeling stuck in his gut. He could feel panic crawling up his spine and sending fingers of ice into his chest, more for every second they sat in silence.

“I’m sorry,” Adam said.

“What for?” It was meant to sound blank but it came out angry instead.

“It wasn’t my place to ask you that. And I certainly shouldn’t have asked right then.”

“Whatever, it’s a question. You’re allowed to ask questions.” It wasn’t Adam’s fault his boyfriend came with tripwires.

“I think we should probably put some clothes on.”

“Why? You didn’t come.” Ronan knew they couldn’t go back to the sex now, didn’t even want to think about touching right now, but he hated how uneven it was. They couldn’t go back, but he still wanted to press rewind.

“I’m really not concerned about that right now,” Adam said, because obviously he was so much more concerned with _Ronan_ , with Ronan’s delicate feelings, with Ronan’s fucking scars inside and out.

“Jesus, Parrish, I’m fine,” he said, but he really did want some clothes right then, so he pulled on briefs, making sure the scar was covered. Then he put on a shirt for good measure too before sitting against the headboard.

“So, we gonna talk about this?” Ronan asked.

“If you’re up to it. But, don’t feel like we have to do this now.”

Part of Ronan wanted to take him up on that, wanted to put this off for one more day. But he knew it wouldn’t change what had to be done.

“No, no, might as well.”

“Okay,” Adam said, sitting beside Ronan but not touching him, for which Ronan was grateful.

Ronan has thought about this, about what it must look like from Adam’s perspective, about how he could possibly explain what happened. Now, in the moment, he just wanted this conversation over with at least some measure of dignity intact.

“K was my ex,” he began.

“The one you mentioned?” Adam asked.

“Yeah.”

“You got that tattoo for him?”

If only.

“He _gave_ me that tattoo.” It was hard even thinking of it as a tattoo. It was a scar; it was spot of marred flesh on a body he’d fought so hard to make his own.

“He wasn’t a tattoo artist,” Adam hazarded. ‘Got it in one,’ Ronan wanted to say, instead he said:

“No. His friend got fired from a tattoo shop, so we broke in after closing and…” _and I made the biggest mistake of my life_ , “and he gave me that.”

“Do you regret it now?”

Like it was just an embarrassing, ill-conceived tribute to an old lover.

“I regretted it as soon as I was sober enough to see straight.” It was easier than saying, ‘I didn’t want it in the first place, but he was always _very convincing_.’ Ronan just said, “He thought it was funny.”

He heard Adam swallow so Ronan thought he understood.

“Sounds like a real asshole.”

“He was.” Desperately, Ronan wanted to leave it at that. He was an asshole, Ronan wasn’t lying to let the rest go. But just as desperately he wanted to push and see if their budding relationship would break under the pressure. He didn’t know if it was self-destructive or self-protective, but he said it anyway. “He- he said, he had to mark what was _his_. Like I fucking belonged to him.”

“Jesus,” Adam said, “that’s pretty fucked up.” The second part was set in front of him gently, like an adult introducing a toddler to a hard truth.

“You think I don’t know that?” Anger welled up quickly and pooled in his clenched fists.

“No,” Adam said calmly, “I’m sure you do.”

“Even at the time, we fought about it.” The next truth came easily, riding the wave of emotion right out of his mouth. “He hit, I hit back, by the end we both probably should have gone to the hospital, but we didn’t.”

There was a moment of silence as Adam digested that and Ronan realized what he’d said, the ‘we,’ the subtle but still there ‘us against the world’ and ‘we knew how to hurt each other the most, that has to mean something right?’ God, what the fuck was wrong with him.

“You don’t have to answer this, but… how’d it end?”

“Shit.” Ronan really didn’t want to answer that. He pressed the white knuckles of his fists into his forehead, trying to excavate the truth so he wouldn’t have to say it. “Fucking- you sure you want to hear that story? If you thought that other thing was fucked up, I’m not sure you want to know this part.”

“Like I said, you don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to. But yeah, if you’re okay telling me, I want to hear.” Ronan thought about that for a long time. “You’re not going to scare me off, Ronan,” Adam said, and for some _godforsaken_ reason, Ronan believed him.

Still, he wanted to check.

He turned and caught Adam’s gaze.

“You sure about that?”

Adam didn’t even flinch, just nodded solemnly.

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

Ronan looked away. Breathed for a moment, staring at nothing, trying not to let this get to him and failing. If he lived through the damn thing then talking about it for the fourth time shouldn’t feel so much like he was going to die.

“I tried to get sober. He started slipping me pills.” Breathe. That’s all he had to do. Breathe and speak. “I threatened to leave him.” Glanced at Adam, but looked away before he could assess his expression. “When I woke up… I was tied up in his trunk. Halfway to who knows where.”

Saying the words. The world didn’t end. There was just Adam’s whispered “Fuck.” And then, “What did you do?”

“What they always tell you to do: I broke the brake light” with his face, that was how he got the scar through his eyebrow, but he didn’t say that bit, “and stuck my hand out, trying to get the attention of someone driving behind us. I hadn’t really been talking to any of my friends by that point, so no one knew I was missing, if I didn’t get myself out, I don’t know what would have happened.”

“And someone saw you?”

“Either that, or K was speeding; he pretty much thought he was a street racer. Anyway, eventually I heard sirens behind us. He pulled over. I still don’t know why the fuck he did that. Maybe he was high and he’d forgotten I was back there. Maybe he thought he could bribe the cop, that daddy’s money could buy him out of a kidnapping charge. I don’t know.”

“Did it? Buy him out of a kidnapping charge?” Adam asked and _shit_ he definitely hadn’t meant to get into this.

“I-” no, he couldn’t say it straight out, he remembered the many, many arguments he’d had with Gansey over this, “okay, here’s the thing,” he said instead. “If I tell you this, you can’t make a big fucking deal out of it. I had my reasons and believe me, I’ve had to explain my decision over and over again. I’m not gonna do that with you, I’m just gonna tell you and you’re going to accept it.”

And then he didn’t even have to say it because Adam fucking guessed.

“You didn’t press charges.”

Ronan turned and looked at him. He took in Adam’s calm, neutral expression and tried to decide how to feel. He wasn’t angry but he was ready to be, prepared to defend himself in the only way he knew how.

“No, I didn’t,” he said finally.

“Okay,” Adam said, simple and easy.

“Okay? Just ‘okay’? Fuck Adam, eventually we’re gonna hit something that you can’t just accept with an ‘okay’.” Ronan in a burst of confused fury suddenly wanted to break something like his hand or his relationship.

“Yeah, maybe we will. But we haven’t hit that point yet.”

“Why not?”

Adam sighed, a gentle _whoosh_ of breath leaving his body.

“You know what I did with my first bonus?” Adam held his gaze and Ronan saw there something he’d seen in Noah’s eyes: ‘I understand. And what I can’t understand I can accept.’

Ronan shook his head, denial, distress, not wanting to know what kind of personal catastrophe could lend Adam that kind of serenity.

“I got a hearing aid implanted in my left ear. Before that, since I was seventeen, I’d been deaf in that ear. I had gotten by on lip reading and my one hearing ear, but I still probably missed about 60% of spoken conversations.”

Ronan wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but it wasn’t that.

“What about now?” he asked, caught on that detail.

“I still miss about 15%. Hearing aids aren’t perfect.”

Ronan regarded him, wishing that understanding to come without pain to those he cared about.

“Are you going to ask what happened when I was seventeen?” Adam asked, and it was a dare, a challenge but for once Ronan didn’t feel the need to take the bait.

“Do I want to know?” Ronan asked instead.

“You not knowing won’t mean it didn’t happen. So you tell me.”

“Okay. What happened when you were seventeen?”

“My mother found a bank statement in my room, which said I had over $10,000 in my savings account, my college fund. She told my father. And,” a pause, Ronan hated everyone who’d made him hesitant just then, “he pushed me down the stairs of our doublewide. It wasn’t the first time he’d hit me, but it was the worst. When I got up, I couldn’t hear.” Ronan felt sick with the injustice, with the wrongness of a parent harming a child. “I don’t know if there was anything they could have done, at the time, if I’d gone to the hospital.”

Ronan thought he knew the answer to the next question, but he asked it anyway.

“Did you press charges?”

“I didn’t have anyone to back me up. I knew- well, my mother would have taken his side.” Ronan wanted to make a scene, to charge back through time and break apart this sorry excuse for a family. “But I petitioned for emancipation. Spent the last half of senior year living in a broke down crapheap of a car. And then I moved to New York and I never, ever looked back.”

Ronan dug his fingers into his thigh, trying to feel anything except righteous anger, heartsick rage. Finally he found it.

“I’m sorry.”

“Do you think any less of me?” Adam asked and Ronan felt like he’d been slapped.

“Of course not.”

“And I don’t think any less of you.” Ronan’s breath left in the hiss of a balloon deflating. “We all have choices to make. We have our reasons. Maybe we wish it were different. Maybe we regret it later. But in that moment no one can know what it’s like to be us. So no one has the right to judge.”

The anger left, and he was just… empty. Blank mind, full heart. He let his hand fall onto the bed and slowly, giving him every chance to pull away, Adam placed his hand on top of it.

“So, I’m not going to make you explain yourself.” Relief, sharp and tangy in his throat, cutting through the emptiness. “But I do have a question,” Adam continued. And Ronan tensed, but he couldn’t even be defensive, all his anger was used up on people far more deserving of it.

“What?” Ronan asked, willing to meet Adam halfway.

“Did you still love him, after?”

Ronan grit his teeth because it was a fair question and because he didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to think about the months cooped up in this very house thinking about everything _he’d_ done wrong, about how _he_ could have fixed it, about what he’d lost. So instead he looked down at his hand, holding Adam’s in the crowded space between their bodies.

“I hated him.” Ronan said, because that was a truth that couldn’t be diluted, “I had nightmares every night for months. I still have them sometimes.” Giant hulking shapes in dark, the rumble of a car engine, immobilized in tight spaces. “I daydreamed about finding him and making him pay.” And then the hardest part, the truth that he didn’t want to be truth. “But yes, I did. I loved him and I couldn’t stop.” Desperately wanted to, hated himself for the betrayal of caring about someone who didn’t deserve the dirt off his boots. “Did, though, past tense.”

“I was just wondering. Believe me, I’m so far from jealous,” Adam said, and that was a strange thing to say.

“Why’s that?” Ronan asked, because next to Gansey, his relationship with K had probably been the most important in his life, up there with Noah. Surely Adam would be jealous of that kind of all-consuming fire.

“Because I would never want you to love me against your will. I’d want you to love me because you chose to, because you saw me and said ‘I want that one’ and kept choosing me for as long as you wanted to and not a moment past.”

“That's nice,” Ronan said, because it was. Because it was the nicest sentiment on love Ronan had ever heard, “but love doesn't work that way. It's something that happens to you, not a choice.”

“I disagree. To me, everything's a choice. No matter what you're dealt or what comes your way, it's up to you to decide how to react to it. And I think if you look at it that way, then you give yourself the opportunity to always be in control.”

Ronan didn’t agree. Some things you were dealt and didn’t get a choice. But he understood why it would be a comfort to think of it that way, considering the shitty fucking hand of cards Adam’s had been born with.

He watched Adam for long moments, drinking in the sight of someone he had only met a few weeks ago but whom he felt he knew better than everyone but a handful of people he’d known for years.

And before, at the beginning of this conversation, it had been impossible to think about touching. But now, it was impossible not to be touching him right that second. So he reached over, cupped Adam’s jaw in his palm and kissed him.

It was slipping into a deep lake, water covering him, soothing old scars and new wounds, drowning out everything but the thud of his heartbeat in his ears and Adam, the warm sun overhead.

“Thank you,” Adam breathed, when they paused.

“Shhhhhh, shut it.” Ronan said, because it wasn’t wholly selfish but it wasn’t selfless either. In that moment touch was the perfect dual purpose action.

Without really thinking about it, Ronan moved Adam until they were both in the middle of the bed, stretched out properly. He kept his movements gentle but firm and Adam went easily, wanting to be moved.

He took Adam’s hands and pinned them over his head before slipping his fingers into the spaces between Adam’s. They held hands for a moment, infinitely gentle and connected, and Ronan loved it in a way he had never expected.

But then Adam pulled one hand away from his grip and let his free palm drift carefully over Ronan’s buzzed scalp. Ronan closed his eyes and let himself feel the sensation.

Adam guided Ronan down and their mouths met again and there was nothing else to say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, now it's Really Over(TM) I had a great time sharing it with you guys. Thank you so much <3


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